


No Crying In Baseball, No Swimming In Spyro

by twinkfloyd



Category: Spyro the Dragon (Video Games), The Police (Band), Yes (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:42:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21960814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinkfloyd/pseuds/twinkfloyd
Summary: I'm not like other teens, I'm forty-six. Trevor goes to Stewart's house for video games and fruit snacks.
Kudos: 1





	No Crying In Baseball, No Swimming In Spyro

**Author's Note:**

> For Pastaflavours. 'Trevor Rabin,Stewart Copeland (Yes,The Police): Playing Spyro games on the PlayStation 1.'
> 
> Thanks to bottomjesus for their contributions.

As Trevor gingerly stepped over another pile of legos it was very clear Stewart had settled, but happily so. He, himself, and the other less successful Danny Elfmans of the world understood that when you fully transitioned from being a hot and sexy rockstar to a boring shut in composer you prematurely welcomed your autumn years. The drummer-songwriter-definitely-not-a-lyricist had invited him over to show off his latest project, a video game about dragons or monster hunting or something? Stewart insisted his son Ryan would love it since all teenage boys were pretty much the same although he would probably be more interested about him being the FORMER drummer for some police band. Still he was probably right.

“Hey man,” he clapped him on the back walking past, “Can I get you a drink or anything? Take whatever you want from the fridge, just make yourself at home.”

From what Trevor had seen so far, it was mostly capri suns. “I’m good right now, thanks.”

“Well if you change your mind,” he turned on the tv and threw himself back on the couch. Stewart handed the controller over to Trevor as he joined him. “So which buttons do I press to-” “It’s a cutscene.” “Then why wasn’t it cut?” “I mean it’s a little movie they’re just called that.” 

Trevor marveled at the graphics, “Oh, there we go I suppose. How do I hit the bug following me?” 

“You can’t he’s your ah Jiminy Cricket,” Stewart drawled scratching his cheek as Trevor struggled with the controls, bumping into walls and falling off things. 

“Is he going to tell me it’s wrong to burn things or steal gems?” Trevor flew into a cliff again. 

“No, you’re sort of damned if you do, damned if you don’t I think. I believe it’s not exactly violence but, cartoon mischief. Y’see if Spyro sets someone on fire it’s ‘just part of the game’ but if I do it I’m ‘a disgrace to this band’ and ‘not welcome back at Christmas’.” 

“Well I’ll try not and get any ideas…” he sighed, drowning again. “Why can’t Spyro swim?”

He was a composer, he had no business answering game design questions. Kids didn’t ask questions, they just went ahead and accepted stuff like oh it was obvious. “...Can you swim Trevor?”

“Not since the accident,” Trevor cryptically replied and continued playing. 

“OK…”

“Long story short I don’t have any spleens.”

“...”

“Do you think dragons have spleens?”

“How about let’s talk about the music instead for a bit?” 

“This song doesn’t sound like it’s finished.”

“..............Well… Pobody’s nerfect.” Stewart got up grimacing slightly. “I’m going to get us some drinks.” 

As he came back with their radical raspberry flavor jammer juice experience pouches, Trevor threw down his controller in frustration, having been stuck on this level for the better part of the past half hour. “I can’t do this! I thought this was supposed to be a children’s game, you know, for children? Why does it taunt my shortcomings at every given opportunity?” 

“Come on, it’s not that hard, hold left and forward and charge when you do it. You just build up speed, go back up the ramp, make a hard turn, cut the guy off and go on up,” he gestured at the screen like it was the easiest possible thing in the world.

Trevor glared at him expectantly, until Stewart sighed and waved at him, scooting across the couch and taking the controller from him. “Fine… fine… let a professional do it,” he muttered. And just as quickly grew aggravated, swearing loudly at the screen. Trevor silently watched wide eyed hands in his lap as the other man ran out of curse words in English and switched to Arabic. “I think you’re going to give him a concussion if you keep running into walls.”

“He’ll live,” he snapped through gritted teeth, “Builds character. What my daddy used to say.”

“he’s just a little boy...”

“‘Now Stewie you know things like helmets an’ kneepads are just gonna make you soft, if you don’t learn what it’s like to cut yourself and see your blood how will you ever be a man.’ Of course my kids will just have to find another way cos those helmets are on before they even look at a bike- FUCK.” He abruptly stood up and stormed out, pacing around the room, then coming back in biting his fingers and glancing at a phone on the table. 

“What are you doing?” Trevor looked up confused. 

“ _Hello this is the hint hotline, how can I point out the obvious to you?_ ”

“Uh hi this is Stewart Copeland-” “I know, you call like three times a day.”

“First of all I do _not_ and secondly, I’m calling for a friend.”

“Right,” there was the sound of gum popping. 

“I’m just trying to look cool in front of my friend, his name is Trevor and he’s very real and not me okay. Tell me how I can make this less aneurysm-inducingly difficult for a couple seconds so I can finish this level.”

Trevor, overhearing his name gasped, “STEWART! You’re using CHEAT CODES!?”

He hastily covered the receiver hissing, “It’s part of the process!”

“...What did the hint hotline tell you.”

“They told me how to make his head big.”

“Big head huh.”

Trevor smacked his lips and looked back towards the pause screen, “It’s not uh, gonna stay like that is it?”

“...Shit…”

“ _Hello this bad at video games hotline, how can I help you Mr. Copeland._ ”

“Chschjklk, it’s NOT… well it _is_ , but I said I was calling for a friend!” he resisted strangling the phone. Trevor stepped over and patted his shoulder taking the call from him, “Erm hello hi, how do you make Spyro’s head small again?”

 _Smack_.“You just put the code back in again, duuuh.”

“Ah, thank you…”

“Tell Stewart if he keeps calling during my lunch break I’m going to come over there and make his head small.”

“Will do, sorry to bother you.”

“Well I’m glad that’s over with, now just to f-” “DADDY DADDY DADDY I WANT TO PLAY.”

There was another sharp inhale as he turned and smiled at a little girl scrambling over his lap to grab at the controls. “Not now sweetheart daddy’s working.” 

“Doesn’t look like you’re working,” Trevor muttered, Stewart shooting daggers at him as he wrestled the child away. 

“Mr. Rabin, please tell my sweet precious darling angel that I am in fact very busy right now doing my job which puts dinosaur gummies on the table.” 

“There’s gummies on the table!?” she shrieked and immediately lost all interest in whatever they were doing in search of the alleged snacks. 

“I think you should let the kids play,” Trevor gently suggested, “After all, they’re the target audience, maybe they could teach you a thing or two.”

“I… You know what, you’re right. I’ll do that- are you leaving soon?” 

He shifted from foot to foot glancing at the door feeling this was probably his sign to head out. “Uh yeah, in a bit, but it was great coming over here and playing with you today. Thank you.” 

“Yeah, sure, any time,” Stewart looked away from the screen and waved. “...Don’t tell them I had to use cheat codes…”

“I promise.”


End file.
